


Tandem

by MissUfo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are are padawans at the same time, And Léon the professional (kind of), Dooku is around 28, Dooku is kind of ooc in this, Dooku speak like hes as old as he is in canon, F/M, Female Obi-Wan Kenobi, Helicopter master Ki-Adi (kind of), I would like to note this is rated G, Ki-Adi is Obi-Wans master in this, Ki-Adi succombs to attachment, Obi-Wan became a padawan really young, Obi-Wan is 16 in this, Obi-Wan is kinda BAMF in this, Other, and by cooties i mean romantic attachment, and i thought it was funny he had five wives, because i read his wiki page, dont do the math, dooku teaches Obi-Wan the ways of bitterness, hes the only one in his jedi lineage that didnt contract cooties, long converations on katas, mention of Mace being a friend tsundere, mention of Qui-Gon being a friend tundere, most of my inspo for this was Koi Wa Amaegari, much lightsaber training very wow, speaking of wiki pages, why him you might ask
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 06:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16444307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissUfo/pseuds/MissUfo
Summary: It wasn't in the Jedi's way for them to come together.But as they fought alongside, it was certain, as they shined like a single beacon, that it was force's way.and that, Dooku thought, was the single thing he'd willingly break the rules for.**Warning, this fic is undergoing extreme changes. It will probably look nothing like this after i'm done with it, so read at your own risk.**





	1. Chapter 1

Dooku was sitting in one of the many training room of the Jedi temple.

After a short talk with Master Ki-Adi-Mundi a few days before, the Cerean had agreed to tutor Qui Gon while they were on Corusant for a short leave. Dooku wanted his padawan to recognize the exemplary way jedi master Mudi fought, and to go over form five once more with the young teen.

He sat on the warmer bench, watching silently over the brunette; it was no shock on how well he was following the Cerean in movement and mind as they dueled; Dooku himself had already gone over form five with him many years ago, but never used the form in combat, and believed expertise only came with true experience. After all, Qui Gon had grand potential to rival himself and Mace Windu and introducing him to many forms so he could choose the one that best suited him would surely push him to that standard.

Dooku stretched his lips thin; he had tried his best to make Qui-Gon become a user of Makashi, but alas, it seemed the master’s perseverance had only made the student easily bored of the form. His youth was no help either; It seems nowadays the young ones disregarded lightsaber dueling for more dynamic stances. His upper lip twitched, the ever-familiar words of his mater Thame rising to his mind;

Foolish, stubborn youth.

He watched with intensity as the training swords clashed in quick sequence, three, four five times, the teacher slipping in commentaries as the human and he engaged in a dangerous dance, the plastoid of the weapons filling the air with the dry echo of their gathering. From what the Jedi knight could tell, his padawan was doing quite fantastic.  
The dark-haired man felt pride swell in him, straightening his posture as his brow raised in content.

When he first took Qui Gon as his apprentice, it was almost unnecessary to meditate on it; He had requested for him to become his padawan to Master Yoda when still a padawan himself, after all. The wise grandmaster had warned him he was acting on impulse, but the young one was brimming with potential and he could not be convinced otherwise.

He wasn’t sure about the foolish part, but his master had been right that he was a stubborn one.

Dooku crossed his arms, pinching the sleeve of his tunic, feeling its fibers with the nail of his index as he drew a small vertical line with the finger. He turned his attention to the source of the thundering of solids filling the empty training room.  
Mundi had raised a hand for a pause, him and the brunette stilling to their current stances.

"Qui Gon, you move too harshly." The Cerean commented, showing the diagonal swing he was going over once again. The movement was flowy, light but quick.  
Qui-Gon tried again but using too much weight and fell to the floor as he connected with his instructor. Dooku’s nose scrunched as he felt the yank of panic in his and Qui-Gon’s bond, so sudden he faintly felt the young man’s pain upon contacting the floor.

"All of your weight should be in your lower core, padawan." Said the Jedi Knight as he reached down for the brunette, who ignored it and got back on his own. Mundi seemed to wave off the young man’s rudeness "A steady blade is more efficient than raw power."

It seemed Ki-Ali-Mundi’s way of teaching was different than his own, and it was frustrating Qui-Gon. Happily, his want to succeed seemed to overpower it. Dooku frowned; his padawan was not paying attention to his barriers today.  
This had become somewhat of a recurring event since last week, Dooku noted.

He was tinkering of what kind of lesson he could go over with the brunette to remedy this surfacing bad habit when he heard the door open, though he paid it no mind. This was a public training room after all.

The shout that came from it did snap his attention, however.

"Master, I’m- " the young girl that had skipped in had frozen dead in her tracks, her eyes locking with Dooku, her pale eyes as large as plates. She seemed just a bit younger than Qui-gon, with short, ginger hair that stopped at her jaw. From the long braid tucked behind her ear, she was probably Mundi’s own padawan. The older man remembered the other knight saying something about how she would be late because he let her sleep in. An irresponsible choice from the master, in his opinion but he kept his feelings to himself.  
From how much in a hurry she was, chances were that the master had not informed the student. She had put her robes all wrong and her obi was not even tied properly, causing Dooku to cringe at the creased beige fabric. If there was one thing he didn’t like besides rudeness it was nonchalance of the sort.

"Ah, Obi Wan." A smile pinched at the cerean’s cheek as he spoke. His tone was one the dark-haired man could compare to the soft whispery tone of Jotasca Nu. It was quite unexpected to the beholder. "You can go sit, I’m working with Qui Gon." He explained. "Make sure you take notes." And with that, he got back to the lesson like nothing happened. The young girl gave a low bow to her master, the mechanical movement of her joints portraying her tension. He kept his gaze on his padawan, not really concentrating on what he was watching, as the young girl passed in front of him in a haste walk, seating herself on the other bench in the room, an approximate two meters away from him. As her attention was entirely sucked by the lesson in front of her, he looked back at the redhead, her presence harvesting curiosity from the dark-haired man.

Obi Wan. Though Dooku knew it was a more masculine name, she herself seemed to radiate a strange aura of femininity in the way she sat and moved, seeming to bend her wrists farther than was necessary and tucking her feet at an angle under the bench. She had taken a holo pad from one of the large flaring sleeves, letting it slide out from the armhole to her hand with practiced ease. She must have one of these robes with arm pockets that many younglings had taken a liking to; Qui-gon himself had one of the same kinds, he mused.  
Fiddling with her loose robes so they would ride up higher on her neck, she put the pad on her lap and took the stylus hidden in the side of the device with her fingers. As soon as she let go of the many layers of fabric, gravity made them slide back where they were once before. She quickly reached for it once more, closing it tighter, but to no avail. After the third time or so, she had given up, and pulled the back of the collar so it would drape on her back rather than her front, showing the smallest amount of her shoulder blades.

After a moment, her pale face turned to him, blue eyes meeting his own.  
A small feeling of warmth crept on his neck, then to his right ear. The warmth, though unexpected, didn’t hurt or make him uncomfortable. In fact, it was eerily comforting, radiating a strange kind of giddiness around him, rippling through the force ever so slightly. He didn’t try to reach for it, letting it linger around him as he acknowledged it curiously.

Padawan Kenobi reached for her small neck, rubbing under her jaw with the smallest pressure, darkening the ivory skin where she passed her hand.  
She smiled, faintly, and turned back to the lesson, resting her chin on the knuckle of her pointer finger as she concentrated on the sparring session that had been left forgotten.

The warmth that had made its way to his neck left like water down a mountainside, slipping away in the ambient force and out of his reach as it ate it whole.  
Dooku imitated the young girl, turning to Qui Gon who had passed over the diagonal slice, now going through sets of it while walking back and forth with Mundi facing him. The Jedi knight reached a hand for the collar of his tunic, hiking it further up; he had gotten the slightest chill from the loss of the strange warmth.

The sensation he had felt only occupied his mind for a slight moment as he watched Qui-Gon pass through another set with relative ease, his pride toward his padawan resurfacing.

The lesson ran smoothly for a few minutes, when Qui-Gon seemed to struggle with the good application of weight again.  
"More weight to the back, young Qui Gon." The brunette did as asked, leaning back just lightly, overextending to where the instructor was pushing him to balance. "…Now it’s too much."

At that his padawan lost his stance, going back to straight. Dooku could feel his frustration manifest itself larger than before, batting it away as it poured out their bond and made a beeline to him. He really needed to do something about the young man’s low barriers.

"We can take a break if you’d like, I understand going over postures is not the most satisfying training." The cerean commented.

"I just don’t understand, does it really need to be so precise?" Qui Gon sighed. "I’m barely moving through your adjustments."

"Padawan, do not complain about master Ki-Adi’s teaching." Dooku grounded, pinched by his padawan’s question. The brunette’s shoulder tensed, seeming to have realized his tone, when the man in question raised a hand.

"No worries, Dooku, he asks a good question." He said, gesturing to Obi Wan, who took no time in putting her pad down on the bench. She stood up, straightened her loose robes flat as best a she could and walked to her teacher. She gave a bright smile to Qui Gon and, to Dooku’s surprise, his padawan replied with an unimpressed thinning of his lips, the exchange resembling an unspoken conversation. Did they know each other?

Dooku scratched his bearded jaw, tinkering; he did have this "friend" back when he was in the padawan’s wing that he told him about, he called her ‘Oh’?  
Looking back at the girl, he put the evidences together; she was in the right age, about a few years younger than Qui-Gon, a braid that went to her belt, like the brunette had described and light auburn hair. Yes, this was definitely "Oh".

"Padawan Qui Gon, would you stand back?" the cerean said as he himself backed away from his padawan, putting the training sword in his belt. He stopped over four meters away, facing her.

Qui Gon did as instructed, backing away near his own master, before mundi spoke once more.

"The prefect stance and weight might seem unimportant in a training room, but on the battlefield, it is absolutely necessary." He stated. Qui Gon looked back at Dooku, who just nodded along, showing he agreed "Of course, it might not seem like it, because it is a battlefield, infinite possibilities happen, and so the ones who have never crossed it might say: 'the perfect stance might take too much time, or too much strain to go through.’" He explained, fiddling with the front of his tunic.  
In a split second, he reached in the layers of fabric and pulled a blaster out, aiming it at his padawan’s head. He didn’t even hesitate as he pulled the trigger, the sound of a beam filling the room along with Qui Gon and Dooku’s screams of terror.

As the trigger pulled, Obi Wan took out her lightsaber while establishing a near perfect basic stance for Shien at near impossible speed. She swiftly deflected the Beam at the last second, making it hit one of the large targets hanging on the wall behind Mundi. She shifted her stance as she hadn’t even finished swinging her sword, but stopping stiffly. Through all of her transition, however, she held a good weight balance, reaching her hand out and unarming her master with a quick bat of the Force, just after he shot the weapon a second time. As if it was second nature, she merged her stance once again to accommodate her weight for another swing, the diagonal Qui Gon had struggled with before, and reflecting it to a different target on the wall. As she just reflected the blaster shot Mundi Feigned to dive for the weapon, only for her to stop the swing of the saber mid-way, merging her stance once again letting her hand stick out to call the blaster to her with the force. A centimeter more, and the girl would have chopped her own hand. She finally got back to a straight stance, putting her lightsaber on the horizontal, facing the elbow she held it with, under the blaster, which under closer inspection, was a simple decoy blaster they used for training in between Jedi knights. She now held it confidently at her own master’s head, like he had done just a few seconds before.

Dooku let go a breath he didn’t know he held; of course, model Jedi Master Ki-Ali-Mundi wouldn’t dare shoot a real blaster at his padawan. the only time masters even dared to use blasters during deflecting training was if they were in between Jedi knights, or if the master in question was old mannered or insane.  
The man despised that going over this knowledge did little to calm down his racing heart.

"And rest." He said, and the young padawan lowered her guard, withdrawing her lightsaber and lowering the blaster. "As you can see, a perfect stance and weight balance means you can switch stances faster, and so react efficiently all the more quickly, as my padawan did." He gestured to Obi Wan. "She had no idea I was going to fire twice, but still reacted correctly."

Dooku was snapped out of his own train of thoughts by Mundi’s speech, suddenly very aware he was grasping his chest like an old creche master who was tricked by some younglings. He slowly slid his hand down, resting it back at his side, as Qui-Gon stood there, speechless.

Obi wan stared at the two, then at Mundi, and them back. She seemed at unease.

"…. I see, Master Ki-Adi…’’ Qui Gon managed to muster, seeming to not have digested the episode that took place in front of him just yet.

Dooku stared back at the young girl, only nodding, before telling Qui Gon to go practice with a pat to his elbow. The young man did with only a slight hesitation, going back to the center of the room. The cerean had marched to Obi Wan, praised her for her reaction time, before taking the blaster from her and putting it back in his robe.

"I’m quite happy your instinct this time was not to knock me out with the blaster." He chirped in that same strange tone from before, as he ruffled her hair.

Red from embarrassment, the redhead mumbled a ‘that was one time’ and shuffled back to her seat on the bench, however sitting closer to Dooku than before.  
Dooku stared with no shame. He was still impressed by the reaction time of the young girl on the sudden assult.

His teaching instincts kicking, he immediately thought of how much time it should of have taken to teach her to be so precise. Did Mundi even have time to teach her anything else? Did the girl even sleep- well she did, why she was late today was because she could sleep in, but honestly, where did the cerean even find the time for such a thing?

Dooku decided he would ask her Master about his training method after the class. He was highly interested in getting Qui Gon as sharp as Obi Wan.

His train of thought was interrupted as he realized the young girl was peaking glances at him. She pulled the back of her collar, making sure the front of her tunic concealed her neck once more, passing a hand to smooth the many layers. The redhead sneaked a final glance at him before reaching back for her data pad, going back to her notes. She turned her attention to the center of the room, analyzing the new sparring set between Qui-Gon and Mundi, noting a detail here and there.

Deciding to follow her example, he turned to look at the duo training. He only lasted a few seconds before passing another small glance at Mundi’s padawan, looking at how she passed a hand over her long braid, rubbing it.  
She was reading her written notes, making a few adjustments as she skimmed the screen.

Realizing he was staring for too long, he looked back to his own padawan, happy to see him getting back to following along the hand-to-hand lesson with relative ease. The searing frustration in their bond had died down, replaced with lukewarm determination and the slightest splash of newfound adrenaline.

It seems he wanted to try the decoy blaster method as well. Dooku snickered, his lips tugging in fondness. Looking over to Obi wan, he found what he assumed was the faint smirk on his own lips on her features, shaking her head as he once again swung too harshly on a diagonal cut and almost fell once again.

Though more faint than before, a warmth brushed up his arm, holding onto him with no real force.

Foolish, stubborn youth.


	2. Makashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll take this moment to get something straight: I'm fully aware both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are too old to be learning Katas, that seems more like a junior padawan thing if you ask me, but I liked the training sessions too much to replace them, and they have relevance in the long run, so here.  
> Also i'd like to point out that though I did do some research on Dooku's behalf, I almost did none with Qui-Gon so I based his character soley on what I've read about him and what I remember from the movies.  
> Enjoy the chapter.

"Good Job with Master Ki-Ali today, Qui Gon." Dooku praised as they went back to their chambers.

"Thank you master. If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to request another lesson with him in the future." Replied the young man. Dooku nodded in agreement. No one could deny the ceruean’s talent for teaching. It was no surprise as of why he could take another padawan almost immediately as he needed to let go of his first.

"Master Ki-Adi’s padawan, Obi Wan, you two seem well acquainted." He commented, remembering the unspoken conversation they had shared during practice. Qui Gon looked onward, though his posture betrayed his surprise. His walls had gone back up just as they had walked out of the training room. "Would I be wrong to assume it was that ‘Oh’ character you told me about before?"

" Yes, it’s her, master." He explained. "We were from the same clan. We stayed in contact afterwards because she had a hard time getting used to the Padawan lifestyle.’’ He explained. Dooku nodded, looking at the corridor lights before realizing they were passing close to the young padawan’s dormitory. Now That Qui Gon was twenty one, it's been many years since he didn't sleep there anymore. The sight in itself, actually, made him curious about the young Obi Wan once again.

"She is quite young, that Obi Wan, how old is she?" He asked.

"She’s sixteen, though she’s been a padawan almost as long as I have." Replied the brunette in a strange tone. Dooku had trained his student too well for it to be jealousy, but it was eerily close. The dark-haired man nodded once again, with a brief hum. At least that alleviated how Mundi squeezed her schedule to be that sharp, she’s had one or two years more than he’d initially believe. Just when they crossed the padawan dormitories, his own pulled him out of his thoughts, as he stopped in his tracks in front of the corridor.< /p>  
"Master, if it’s not a bother, could I go talk to Obi Wan? I will be back at our quarters shortly." The brunette assured. He had a too straight posture, like when he was impatient about something.

The master tilted his head in curiosity, raising a brow. Qui-Gon did not talk often of Oh, but for the few times the master did recall it was always some kind of complaint; ‘Oh followed me around the entire day yesterday. She didn’t even try to talk to me, it was uncomfortable.’ Or ‘They made me babysit Oh again today; she kept trying to climb the trees In the Halls of a thousand fountains and she hurt herself; they blamed me for it.’ Was the typical format Dooku had mention of the redhead in the past. The Knight would have lectured Qui-Gon for complaining but he believed it would be hypocritical for him to do so, as people often got to his nerves as well. After a long moment, the master slowly nodded in affirmation, noting the slight brightening of the pupil’s eyes.

"Get back twenty minutes before curfew." He said as he turned his heels and walked away. He heard the soft thump of the young man behind him, trotting in the dormitory. The dark-haired man scoffed. So much for all of that complaining, and he was jogging to go see her.

He thought, in slight horror, that maybe Qui-Gon had developed a strange bond with Obi-Wan where he only pretended she was an annoyance. Dooku felt his nose scrunch. He had witnessed too many of that dynamic; Windu had such a friendship with master Yoda, and it was and utterly foolish thing he had the unfortunate privilege to witness.  
And so, he refused to think Qui-Gon had developed that stupid trait. The knight’s posture faltered for a slight moment, taking in the possibility the inevitable might of already happened, but quickly reassured himself he would lecture the young man and make him meditate until he was purged of it.

The dimly lit corridors of the temple were relatively empty at this hour, and so he met few other temple residents on his way to the library. Seeming as Qui-Gon would be out of his way for a few hours, he decided he’d spend his newfound free time reading in the library. He remembered master Sera mentioning there were recent additions made in the historical texts of Katas and has been eagerly waiting for an occasion to read them.

"Good evening Knight Dooku." A pack of young padawans crossed with him, exchanging a curt bow with him before getting back on their merry way. They were all in their mid-teens, too young to be senior padawans, and too old to be juniors.  
Around Obi-Wan’s age.

He turned a corner as he let his thoughts trail. He recalled to the young girl’s display of skill this afternoon; even now, he's still quite impressed.  
He passed a large window, glancing at the neon lights of the city sprouting to the horizons. Maybe while he was at the library he would skim over her file.

\--  


Above average in academics.  
Average in saber art.  
Above average in force manipulation.  
As for what Mundi had recently updated, the "Average in saber art" Had gone above average, with the comment "Quick Learner," and a few other comments concerning where she needed improvement.

Her home world was Stewjon, and no real information was given about her parents. Not that he expected any, he knew all about how it was uncommon for Jedi to even know their parents and he was a special case, after all.

The most interesting part of her file, in Dooku’s opinion, was the lack of mission reports. Being a padawan almost as long as Qui Gon, she should have had a lot more than the short amount that was in there.

He, however, understood immediately why as soon as he saw her training reports.  
The separate file for it was immense. It seems the true secret behind her quick reaction time was because of a lot of practice after all.

The files were also not only signed by Ki-Ali; It seemed he’d gotten many other Jedi knights and masters, even some from the council, to give her one or two training sessions. Other were short presence files for workshops and such. He was impressed to see she had gotten a training session with grand master Yoda himself. He was reminded of his own training sessions with the Jedi master as he read the short comments that were typed on it.  
"follows instructions well."  
"Eccentric attitude of a socialite."

He frowned at the last one. The old man did always love to leave confusing notes in his reports. He vaguely remembered reading in his own reports how it was too obvious he descended from nobility because of how he stood. He had little to no time pondering on the odd note, however, when he noticed Master Ki-Ali-Mundi enter the library an make a beeline to him.

"Master Mundi." He greeted as he turned off the holoscreen, giving a slight bow as the Jedi Master did the same. The man offered the seat next to him, for the Cerean to decline it.

"I am quite sorry, but I am here to see you kind of last minute." He explained, pushing the chair to the table. "I was wondering, in fact, if you’d have a spare hour at the moment." His voice played on the embarrassed, probably because of the late hour. Curfew would come in less than half an hour.

"Well I do, in fact, but if it requires me to be absent from my quarters, I’d have to drop a note for my padawan, I’m sure you’re aware the curfew is in not long."  
The other man nodded, asking to lead the way. They promptly got out of the library and into the halls before Mundi spoke up once more.

"The reason I sought you is, I was wondering if you’d be willing to briefly teach Obi Wan some Makashi." Dooku scoffed in amusement.  
"At this hour?" Mundi seemed to have not brushed off his air of embarrassment.

"Yes, I’m planning on giving her a full day of studying tomorrow, so she can practice over curfew, it’s for the best, in my opinion." He explained. "Also, she asked me herself about Makashi a few days ago, this is a surprise, of some sort." He explained joyfully. From How the Cerean was talking about her schedule, it was almost as if he babied her, but her skill and track record showed quite the opposite. "I would have asked you during our session this morning, but it had passed my head entirely until my padawan reminded me you were highly skilled in it while we ate our dinner."

They rounded a corner. Dooku nodded, proud his reputation as a duelist still held strong. He wondered for a moment if she had studied the stance examples he’d recorded for the temple. How long had it been since he’d made them? It was quite early in his knighthood…  
Realizing he was trailing off, he shook himself back to reality before nodding calmly to the Jedi master at his side.

"It would be my pleasure to teach Obi Wan some of Makashi. It’s fair, considering I’ve requested you to revise Shien with Qui Gon." He reasoned.

A pause.

"I’m also going to be honest, it’s a nice change of pace, considering Qui Gon is not a big fan of Makashi." The Cerean Chuckled at his bitterness. "I’m sure he’ll learn to like it, however, he’s quite skilled at it."

"It is true that the new generation seems to prefer Shii-cho, Soresu and Shien." Mundi commented."I will admit that my own padawan has taken quite a liking to Soresu." He added jovialy.

Dooku raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"By how skilled she is with Shien, I would of not assumed you had time to teach her anything else." He commented. The Jedi Master nodded, a sigh leaving his lips.

"Yes, it is quite a hassle, I will admit, but the Order have been quite supportive to her teachings." He explained with a faint of fatigue. "And not to mention, she is a quick learner, and stubborn. She will not stop until she gets it right." He added with pride.

"I see." Dooku replied with a nod, reminded of his own pupil’s stubbornness. "the youth has some part to do with It, I would imagine." Mundi chuckled at that.

"The force only knows." The Cerean retorted, his lips tugged in a soft smile.

As they got back to his chambers, Qui Gon was already back from his trip to the padawan’s wing, and so Dooku told him directly he would be leading a late-night class. He refused to let the young man come with him, knowing it would ruin his sleep cycle for the next two days if he trained right before bed. It had happened before, the Jedi knight had no fond memories of it. He finally convinced him to stay put after mentioning he’d teach Makashi.

As soon as that was settled, he let Mundi lead the way to the training rooms. The walk there had been uneventful, the corridors empty at this late hour, and neither man feeling overly chatty.

Dooku did open his mouth to ask the other present how his wives were doing, but he quickly resigned himself. That topic might be inappropriate, and he didn’t want to risk making the Cerean uncomfortable.

"Go ahead, I won’t judge." Mundi said, breaking the silence. The dark-haired man was taken off guard, but straightened himself before voicing his curiosity;

"I have heard you traveled to the Cerean system recently. Did you reunite with your wives?" The Jedi master’s lips tugged just a little farther as he replied fondly;

"Yes, they are well. My youngest wife, El-La, recently birthed a son and so I deemed it appropriate pay them a visit." Dooku pinched the sleeve of his tunic, rubbing it awkwardly.

"Congratulations." He managed to mutter.

"Thank you." The Cerean replied, smiling apologetically. "I know it’s an uncomfortable topic for most of the order, but if you’re ever curious feel free to ask me anything." Embarrassment thinned the Jedi Knight’s lips. He was an adult, this shouldn’t be so awkward of a conversation.

"Did Obi-Wan go with you?" He finally choked out. Yes, distract yourself, that’s always a good way to get back in control.

"Yes, the entire family took a great liking to her." Mundi Quipped. "I’m sure if I didn’t stop her, Geiji would have kept her as her own."

Dooku didn’t reply. The way the other Jedi was recalling the events seemed too… Joyful.

"Of course, I made sure my Padawan had little exposure to her. It was necessary" The cerean added, quickly. "Even if it did cost me an angry wife." He huffed.

As they reached the door to the same training room they had occupied this morning, the two had fallen silent once more. The Jedi Master walked to the door rapped a melodic beat to it. A moment passed before it slid half opened, the young Obi Wan sticking her head out.

She spoke up in a language Dooku had not heard before. It was compounded of many lengthy sets of syllables that surely meant something, mutely rasping out for the few times she did space out what Dooku assumed were words. The dark-haired Jedi realized, as he turned to Mundi, that it was probably Cerean. The girl interrupted herself as she noticed him, falling silent. She looked back at her master, confused.

"He’s here to teach you Makashi." The Jedi master explained. The girl’s eyes grew as big as saucers as Dooku felt the breeze of warmth he had felt this afternoon. "Are you going to let him in?" She nodded vigorously, getting back in the training room. Her master chuckled at her enthusiasm. He turned to Dooku, giving a bow.

"You can stop the class anytime you’d like. I’m afraid I don’t have so much stamina as my young padawan, I’ll be heading to bed." He left as the other jedi knight bowed to him, walking back from where they came from. He truned back as he reached the corner.

"Thank you again." He said, before disappearing in the corridor.

Dooku watched him leave, raising a brow as the Cerean’s figure disappeared behind a corner. If he didn’t know better the senior Jedi seemed to abandon his own padawan and was now running away.

He looked at the wall for a moment before walking in the training room.

He didn’t know what he expected to be greeted with, but the red head, kneeling on the floor with her hands on her knees was not one of them. A practice sword poked out of her belt. She looked like the little puppets he’d seen in the trinkets stores in mid Corusant, minus the finely painted details of heavy makeup painstakingly put on them by the artist.

A moment of silence passed before the girl bowed down on the ground.

"Thank you for teaching me, master Dooku." He almost laughed at how formal the girl acted. He felt like he was in a bad novella written by a temple outsider.

"Stand up, Obi Wan, no need to be so formal." She nodded before doing as asked. Since the morning, she had the time to fix her attire, now well layered and the obi correctly tied. Dooku felt the layers took away the aura of femininity she gave off in the morning, but still satisfied she was now properly dressed. He walked over to a wall where practice sabers were lined up and picked one. He poked it on the floor, making it stand on its edge as he measured where the top of the hilt lined up to his body. It rested approximately at the same length to the floor as his hips.  
Content he picked the correct size on the first try, he gripped its handle, turning around and back to his new pupil.

"Now, let’s start. First, we’ll go over the main stance, since I know you’re quite skilled at those." He quipped. Dooku noticed a small grin flee from her mouth before she imitated him in the straight standing pose, resembling a little soldier. Dooku could now feel the strange warmth enrobe him, almost like a delicate scent in the air. It took its hold on the side of his neck with a weak grip, lingering instead of invading. Now more relaxed under the comfortable feeling, he showed her the main stance, stepping his foot forward and extending his arms in an angle to the side, keeping the practice in his hand parallel to his wrist. He kept his core completely balanced, supported by the flat of his feet. The redhead imitated it, straightening her spine too far.

His lips tightened. Those cursed dynamic katas probably gave her that bad habit. He signaled for her to hold as he walked around her, checking how to fix it. He could see her spine was too arched to one side, alongside with other minor errors. He mused on how Qui-Gon had made similar mistakes when he was first introduced to Makashi, but, unlike Qui Gon, he hesitated in pushing her in the right position. He looked her over, noticing that even if put correctly, her tunic still showed a large part of the nape of her neck. He quickly looked away, trying to tell himself there was nothing different between the two. As he reached a hand, the comfortable warmth had amplified to becoming humid and thick. He could feel it in his mouth, almost taste it as he breathed in.

Even with how invading it had become, the hold it had on him was still very soothing, as if cradling him securely.  
He withdrew his hand. Now was not the time to prod at the force, he must teach.

After a moment, he finally decided it was best to adjust her by words.  
I’m just hesitant because it’s not my own padawan, he reasoned with himself.

"Ankle up, your knees are too bent." He said, as she moved her limbs like he asked. "Good, now relax your back, you will hurt yourself with that much tension doing Makashi." He lectured, satisfied at how she immediately understood and corrected it.

"Now, put your blade further away from you- " She straightened into the right position, but wasn’t as successful with her arm. "Not that far." She then put it too close to herself. He took a deep breath, his hand hesitating for a single moment before he forced himself to take her wrist, guiding it to the good distance.

As soon as he brushed her pale skin, he felt a straight circuit form in the Force, the warmth resurfacing, stronger than ever before. Even if he didn’t try to follow it himself, the presence snaked at his arm, then his chest and suddenly more than half his upper body was wrapped in the omniscient touch of the Force. It sent waves upon waves of happiness, intently warming him like the rays of the sun during a warm, cloudless Coruscanti day. It threw gratitude, fondness, admiration, in a strange whiplash passing through the bones of his arm and knocking the breath out of his lungs.  
It was so safe, so comforting, he felt he could just fall asleep right then and there.

He snapped from his trance. This was too much, he thought as he retrieved his hand to his side like he he was burned.

As soon as he took his hand away, it was gone, as if the presence ripped out of him so quickly he almost needed to stabilize himself. The man still felt where the soft presence had coursed through him, only it felt like an uncomfortable, empty chill.  
He looked at Obi Wan, who looked back at him, her face petrified.  
They stared in silence for a good five seconds before Dooku coughed distractingly. He gave the girl’s pose a quick once over before muttering a ‘’Like so.’’ Under his breath.  
The taste of disappointment lingering through the silence left a sour taste in Dooku’s mouth. He let the incident slip from his mind and all the confusion that came with it in the force, letting it eat them away. Now with a clear head, he once more focused on his teaching.  
He circled around her once again, inspecting for more errors. He looked at her ankle once more, noticing a bit of her leg was visible because of how it was raised up.

‘’Put your ankle a bit lower…’’ The cotton fabric slid on the skin lightly, concealing what had been visible of the leg. ‘’There, good.’’ He took a step back, hands behind his back. Looking over her stance once again and feeling satisfied, he shifted his gaze to her eyes, not breaking away as he said;  
‘’Now you stay in this position for five minutes.’’ He didn’t miss the gleam of annoyance that passed in her eyes, but she didn’t voice it. He noticed as he looked in the pools of her eyes that the constant warmth he had felt before the incident had vanished, leaving him feeling chilly.

He kept checking on her stance as she stayed as still as she could muster, the minutes ticking away. He helped her to readjust whenever she fell slightly out of stance, by voice, of course, he still didn’t dare touch her again.  
"It" was still too fresh in his mind to attempt facing it another time.

After finishing that exercise, he went over the steps and position of a very basic Makashi routine, the incident completely forgotten. She followed well, asking questions whenever she struggled with something, and for the few times she fell out of stance or fell completely on the floor, she got back up, persistent to get one specific move or stance correctly.

There was the stubborn attitude Mundi had told him about.

Even if she was quite young, she carried a mature air to herself. If the man would be honest, it was true of many padawan of her age, but it somehow seemed to be more prominent with her. Maybe it was the late hours that were tricking him, but if it weren’t for the slight fat in her cheeks, one would never suspect she was but a child.;  
He sighed, brushing a stray piece of hair over his ear. He looked back at the young girl, once again on the floor. Like before, she pulled herself up, her determination had not dimmed.  
"Put more mass on your back and try again." He said, showing the correct stance. She nodded, her face having scrunched in concentration, determination lingering in the air. As it had done before, the warmth brushed to him, distant but obviously present.

As Obi Wan went through the step sequence, making the wooden saber sing, she finally didn’t fall at the last steps, finishing back into the resting stance.  
"Rest." He ordered, and the girl withdrew her sabre, standing straight. He nodded in satisfaction at her success. The girl seemed to take it as praise, a smile tugging her lips as she momentarily looked at the ground. The ambient force whispered her content as well, making the warmth linger in the same intensity as it had once before a few hours ago, soothing the shoulder pain Dooku had developed in the meantime.  
The older man frowned. He was still stubborn to admit the strange warmth was the young girl’s doing.  
She was just distracted, he denied.  
"Heighten your barriers, Kenobi. Back in the main stance." He ordered abruptly, the red head obeying a fraction of seconds later. "Now go over the routine once again. We’ll move on after you do it successfully four times in a row." He walked at the benches and sat down, crossing his legs. "I’ll indicate if you passed them one by one."

They took away a good half an hour, Obi Wan not being able to go over two consecutive attempts at the routine. She was close to go over to three, but got out of balance as she just finished.  
"Once again." Dooku looked as her frown tightened, going over the routine from the top once again. He felt her frustration in the air, the faint grip of the presence growing cold. His brow tightened as he reached for her mental shields, feeling them high and strong.  
He was pushed back to the physical world once the redhead pulled back into main stance, waiting for his judgment.

"First passed."

A second time.

"Once again."

A third time.

"First passed."

A fourth.

"Second passed."  
A stumble, and the padawan fell to the ground on the same part she struggled with in the beginning.

"Once again.’’ Obi Wan made a move to get up, but only let herself fall on the ground right after. The force grew cold, so very cold as it carried immense frustration.  
The instructor winced, the chill almost making his hair stand on end. He felt the same kind of impatience he developed when dealing with a child’s screaming creep in him.  
"Once Again." The instructor insisted. A second passed, and the young girl made no move to get up. A small sense of worry passed through the man, starting to fret he might have tried out the young padawan, but a soft groan dissuaded it, and a wash of hopelessness drowning the tiring frustration in the cold ripples of the force.

"Giving up already?" She turned her head so she looked back up at him, a frown twisting her face. The man grinned, feeling the anger spike in the force like an early morning freeze, surrounding him, only to crumble and melt as it reached him. "Your master told me you were extremely determined, I’m starting to think he was wrong." She blew the hair that was veiling her face off, pouting. "Now up, once again." He sat back, crossing his arms.

Slowly but surely, she got back up. A new fire lit her eyes as she got back to the main stance, restarting the routine as she had been asked. Dooku watched, scratching his beard as he watched her flow through the movement with a newfound grace. As she stopped to the final step, she re-entered the initial position, immediately going over the routine once again before Dooku could tell her if she passed or not. Slowly but surely, the chill dissuaded and the warmth from before settled in as she went on and on, going over it over it infinitely. As time passed, the creases in her forehead dissuaded, being replaced by a piercing, focused gaze.

The Jedi knight decided he liked that look to her a lot more than he’d like seeing her frustrated. The corner of his mouth tugged as he looked over the dainty way the girl moved- compared to Qui Gon, she carried herself with a slight flow in her movement, more seeming to dance than brandishing a deadly weapon. She moved around in the quiet of the room, the stick of her bare feet on the padded ground echoing in chorus with the chant of her blade, only stopping when she finished the routine once again, and not staying silent for more than a moment, as if it was grasping for air in between two breathtaking pieces of a song.  
He let her go on for about ten minutes, before her heavy breaths filled the silent room, like an ugly duckling had joined in the chorus, doing falsettos. The man froze at it reached his ears, tensing in the slightest as it amplified as she stilled into the last stance The warmth, still lingering about, had changed just slightly, this time sticking to him, as if demanding. Every time he had tried to look away, it rubbed on him uncomfortably, pleading to keep his eyes on the girl. As she all but gasped for air, about to do through the routine once more, Dooku stopped her with a raise of his hand.

"Rest." He muttered, relief filling him as the stickiness of the warmth slowly melted off of him as she stood straight. Her chest was moving in a rise and fall movement, physically manifesting how truly exhausted she was. She looked back at him, her face tightening to the frown from before. Dooku stood up, straightening his robes.  
"Six consecutive passes," He declared, pulling his right sleeve. As he walked up to her casually."It seems I assumed too quickly.’’ His arm twitched to ruffle her hair like he had did with his padawan so many times, but he was reminded of the incident. Verbal it was, then.

"Good job." The uneasiness only amplified as the young girl’s face lit up like an oil fire at the praise, the warmth starting to amplify like it did when he first reached a hand near her. He let it embrace him just this once, passing though him with ease. Now that he wasn’t fighting against it, its ripples soothed him much like the lingering warmth did, taking away even more of his shoulder pain than before, almost numbing it to inexistence.  
"What do I learn now?" Dooku’s lips twitched at her newfound eagerness, but suddenly realized it was passed curfew.  
"Well, let’s look as the time and decide- oh-" as he looked at the clock on the wall, it indicated it was three hours past curfew. "Well, it seems that would be all for tonight, it’s off to bed with you." The way the girl’s mood deflated was almost comical. "Patience, young one. We will continue this lesson another time." She got back in a good mood almost instantly.

After deciding that it was too late to let her walk around on her own, Dooku waited for Obi Wan to clean the training room so he could escort her to the padawan dormitories. He did offer his help, but she insisted it would be shameful to make the instructor clean, so he sat patiently while she passed a broom over the floor.

The walk to the dormitories was quite flavorful, Obi Wan being curious about the history and origin of Makashi. The Jedi knight was happy to provide, going high and low on the large amount of information he knew about the sword form. He was a history enthusiast, after all. He event went as far as to highlight the decline of the style, how blaster effected the efficiency of the form.

"is there any efficiency in deflecting blaster shots with Makashi?" She questioned, fiddling with her braid.

"Of course, there is, it however takes a bit more skill than, let’s say, form Soresu or Shien, who were made for opposing many enemies with blasters, amongst other things. If you want my opinion, it is just laziness that pushed them to exist; I myself can handle deflecting quite fine with Makashi." His bitter commentary drew a chuckle out of the red head.

"And they say I am the stubborn one." She quipped, turning her braid between her fingers. Dooku only hummed back, no comments to add. "is that why you’re so persistent for Qui Gon to master the style?"

The man’s brow raised.

"He talks about his training to you?"

"More like he complains about it." She replied with a sly smile as she remarked the offended reaction of the man. "He always tells me it’s ‘so boring’ and ‘katas for old men’"

He and his padawan would have a talk.

Just as they finished their exchange, they reached the padawan’s dormitories. The girl gave him a respectful bow, thanked him for his time and for escorting her, before turning to the large doors and quietly slipping in the small open space between them. She waved him a final goodbye before closing the doors with a faint thud. As the senior went on his own way, he felt the warm feeling brushing on his neck slowly disappear as he walked away from the dormitories.

He clicked his tongue, unhappy to admit that it was indeed coming from the girl.

As Dooku walked back to his own chambers, he reflected on if her staying up so late was going to get her in trouble, but he waved it off; the order never really cared about such small details, after all. After a few years of observing on his part, there was no denying the order was blind upon many things. Even if they did find out about it, he was not the one who would call her out.  
In his opinion, her staying up late to train only showed how dedicated she was to become a Jedi knight. Her eagerness to learn made Dooku quite interested in teaching the girl in the future. He’d talk to Master Ki-Adi about it the next time they would cross.

Yes, it was because she was dedicated he wanted to see her again, he told himself.


End file.
